


Mama's Here

by thesonder



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Basically James is sick and Natasha has to take care of him, F/M, Fluff and stuff, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, James is four years old, James is the son of Steve and Nat by the way, Made this to comfort me after reading some questionable fanfiction, Might add more chapters in the future, Oneshot, POV Natasha Romanov, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Sickfic, Very fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25000564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesonder/pseuds/thesonder
Summary: James is now four years old, and his parents, Steve and Natasha, have a hard job parenting this energetic and wild child most of the time. However, when James gets sick, their lives become simultaneously easier and harder as they try to juggle James' new poorly personality, and just how much he desperately needs both of his parents.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 92





	Mama's Here

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this instead of Chapter 15 of my other book Lost in Translation hehe, my dedication is appalling. Might go back to it after this.  
> I'm thinking of maybe adding more chapters after this seeing how things go...  
> We'll have to wait and see I guess.  
> Enjoy!

Consciousness gently tugs at Natasha’s sleeping form, pulling her up to the surface and the rest of the world, but she doesn’t want to go. She wants to stay asleep, in this beautiful, peaceful world of blissful unconsciousness. But the persistent poking refuses to cease, and she is untimely yanked from her state of sleep, frankly without a say in the matter.

As she slowly comes to, Natasha blinks blearily, trying to locate the source of the poking that hadn’t stopped once she had awoken. After squinting for a few seconds to adjust her eyesight, Natasha finds the shadow of a small boy next to the bed, prodding her and whispering her name in the dark.

“Mama! Mama!”

She tries to sit up, still disorientated from sleep, and her eyes finally focus. James, in his little blue train print pyjamas, is poking her, trying to get her to wake up.  
“James? Baby, what are you doing up?” Natasha sits up, checking the clock on the dresser next to the bed. It glows in the dark, telling her it is barely two o’clock in the morning.

“Mama, I threw up.” James whispers in a frightened voice.

“You did? Just now, in bed?”

James nods mutely. Internally groaning, Natasha briefly checks that Steve lies completely out of it beside her, which he does, before sticking her feet out from under the covers and turning to face her four-year-old son.

“Okay. It’s okay. Come on. Mama’s gotcha.” she murmurs back to him, lifting him into her arms and getting to her feet. James settles into her, his fist tightening around her pyjama top. Natasha takes James to the bathroom, where she sits him down by the toilet and tells him to aim for the bowl if he feels like he’s going to be sick again.

After kissing his tousled blond hair, she goes back into James’ bedroom. His duvet cover is stained with vomit and without looking too closely at it, she strips the sheet off the bed and chucks it into a bundle in the corner. The room stinks rather badly, and so Natasha returns to the bathroom to fetch an air refresher from the cupboard well above James’ reach. The little boy sits obediently where Natasha had left him, certainly looking at least the worse for wear, if not very poorly. Once Natasha has obtained the air refresher and hurried back to put it in James’ room (up high on a shelf of books that he won’t be able to reach), she returns to the bathroom to find James vomiting again.

“Oh, малыш,” she murmurs, comfortingly, kneeling down to where James sits and rubbing a hand up and down his back. When he has finished, she sees that there is sick on his pyjama shirt too, and makes a mental note to change it before she sends him back to sleep. The small child snuggles up to his mother, who takes him into her lap where he sits, back against her chest and angled slightly towards the toilet, just in case. His head lolls, and Natasha places a gentle hand to his forehead partly to keep him upright and partly to check his temperature. It’s relatively warm, probably a mild fever, she’ll give him some medicine in the morning. She absentmindedly strokes his hair back, always surprised just how much it reminded her of Steve’s. The mother and son sit there for a few minutes, Natasha staring into space, James nodding off. She didn't enjoy looking after sick kids, but it was part of the job of motherhood, and besides, James was a cuddler when he was sick, and she enjoyed that. James’ body starts tilting sideways in her arms, and she realises that he had drifted fully off to sleep, then she slowly and carefully gets to her feet, James in her arms. His short child legs wrap securely around her hips as she carries him back to his bedroom. 

As he floats in a state of semi-consciousness, Natasha pulls James’ pyjama top over his head, and tugs his pyjama bottoms off for good measure. When she has dressed him slightly haphazardly in a new set of pyjamas, navy this time, she places him in bed under the new sheets and goes to get a large basin in case he needs to throw up again. 

When she returns, places it down, and makes to leave, but James utters a noise of dissent from the bed.

“No, Mama, stay.” 

Natasha sighs lightly. Well, if she hadn't got sick yet, by some miracle, she definitely would now. Resigned to the fact that probably both her and Steve would catch this bug of James’ in the coming days, she mutters, “Alright, baby. But just this once.”, before climbing into James’ miniscule bed with him. He nestles in close to her as soon as she’s down, and she wraps her arms around him in return as he drifts back off to sleep. 

When Steve finds them in the morning, Natasha’s body is curled tight around James’, the two forming a close, tightly knit bundle of limbs. Natasha's chin lies on top of James’ head and his dirty blond curls, and the two sleep soundly, Natasha snoring occasionally. Steve can't help but smile from ear to ear. 

This is what he always wanted. This is his family.


End file.
